


Life Is Hard (After All, It Kills You)

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Canon Het Relationship, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Infidelity, Episode: s04e12-13 The Sword in the Stone, F/M, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, Internal Conflict, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1196466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way for Merlin to get through the day is to pretend the next moment will be easier. It isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Is Hard (After All, It Kills You)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [Merlin Writers'](http://merlin-writers.livejournal.com) Drabble Day (ha! drabble!) - for the combined prompts _"I love you and it's killing me."_ and _[Can't Pretend](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4-OxOmsqR0) by Tom Odell_. Part of the Valentine's Day celebrations - Happy Valentine's, eh?
> 
> Also written for the [Camelot Land](http://camelot-land.livejournal.com) prompt _the wicked day._
> 
> Title is a quote by Katharine Hepburn.

Somehow he'd gotten out of bed that morning. He'd thought that would be the hardest bit, actually facing the day. A day he'd still half believed would never come about, even though he'd tried his damnedest to ensure that it did. He wanted Arthur to be happy after all, even if he himself would be miserable.

But after getting up, he had to get Arthur up, remind him that no, he couldn't sleep in even if he was the king because today was his wedding day. That had gotten him out of bed rather abruptly. Dressing him had been just as hard because he knew that it meant, for the first time in years, he would not be the one to undress him at the end of the day. Gwen would do that.

He even put the crown on Arthur's head, frowning and hoping he could pass it off as concentration. Fastening the clasp on his cloak, Merlin felt more dread in his heart than when he dressed Arthur for battle. Something would die today, even if it wasn't Arthur. He’d thought that would be the hardest part.

But then, he had to leave him, take his place in the crowd and _watch_. Watch as the man he loved married another. Watch Arthur smile. Watch him be happy. It was a good job he had such good practice at lying because he cheered and clapped even as his heart was breaking, dying painfully inside his chest. That had to be the hardest part, surely.

But then came the feast, the dancing, the drinking. The celebrating. How could he celebrate the worst day of his life? With wine and a lot more lying, it turned out. And a lot of glaring at Arthur while simultaneously avoiding his eye. Nothing in the world could be worse.

He retired from the party early, ready to put this terminal day out of its misery before fate proved to him that it could always be worse, things could always be harder. But the fates heard him and he in turn heard footsteps behind him.

"Merlin!" Arthur's voice echoed down the hall, because fate often used his greatest weakness as a mouthpiece.

"Sire?" Merlin asked, forgetting to lie and sounding about as weary as he felt. He could always pretend he was tired. He would always be pretending. For the rest of his life.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked, staring at him in disbelief that it even needed asking.

"To bed," Merlin answered, laying the foundations of the lie. "I'm sure you have a long list if things you'd like me to do tomorrow, I should get an early night."

"Tomorrow?" Arthur asked as though he had no concept on time beyond this night. "We haven't finished today yet."

"All the same, I think I'll call it a day," Merlin persisted; even trying to turn away but Arthur caught him arm and apparently wasn't letting it go again.

"I'd hoped that you would..."

"I'm not getting you ready for bed," Merlin cut in, his worst fears held in that one idea. "Not tonight. Perhaps not ever."

Arthur looked down and let go of Merlin’s arm, face flushed with wine or perhaps even embarrassment. It was hard to tell. He couldn't even tell what was making his own skin prickle uncomfortably hot. The way Arthur looked back up at him, eyes hiding nothing of the hurt that lay underneath. Or was that his own eyes reflecting back at him?

"No, of course not, I wouldn't expect you to," Arthur said stiffly, even giving an inch was hard for him. "I was going to ask you to say something."

Merlin looked at him dumbfounded, waiting for the rest of Arthur’s idea because surely he hadn’t meant _say something_ like that. Like make a speech. A speech about how happy he was for the couple. When Arthur just stared at him expectantly, he shook his head.

“Don’t,” Merlin said, trying to halt the idea before he really did ask.

“Merlin, you can’t tell me what to do, remember?” Arthur said but his bravado was covering a questioning look and hurt feelings. Merlin wanted to apologise and say he’d do it, of course he’d do it, they were best friends, right? But he’d run out of lies.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” Merlin said, hoping his tone was firm enough to end all discussion about it. “You know I’m no good in front of crowds, I’ll make a mess of it, get tongue tied. I’m sure Gaius would be honoured if you asked him.”

"It doesn't have to be Plato, Merlin, just make a speech. It would mean a lot to me." Arthur looked him dead in the eye, pinning him with his gaze until all he could do was look away. “You’re not usually shy about expressing your opinion of me.”

“This is different,” Merlin said, feeling everything start to unravel as he clung desperately onto the idea that he nearly made it through the day. He still might if Arthur just _let it go_.

“Why is it?”

Merlin sighed, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose because gods be damned; he’d had just about all he could take. “Because I have nothing to say.”

Arthur reeled back, as if Merlin had hit him. Worse in fact, Arthur took a blow rather better than he did an uncomfortable truth. 

"I'm sorry. I've just run out of things to say," Merlin said, hoping if he added a few more words to his statement, it would soften it. “Ask someone else. Please.”

Merlin turned his back on him. This. This was the hardest anything could possibly be. Hurting Arthur on the happiest day of his life and then leaving him, unable to make it better because there was no magic cure for this. He couldn’t just ignore feelings. He couldn’t lie anymore. He couldn’t pretend anymore. He couldn’t keep living in a state where every moment was harder than the one before. He’d turned back to him before he realised what he intended to say but it was too late to walk away.

“No, I have plenty to say, I just _can’t_ say any of it. I never have been able to say any of it. Because _you’re a prince_ and _I’m a servant_ or because _Morgana_ and now _Gwen_ and now you’re _king_ and _I’m still a servant_ and everything else you like to remind me of on a daily basis, like how _we can’t be friends_ and that I’m just an _idiot_ who can’t do anything right,” Merlin said, taking a step closer to Arthur with each emphasised word, each reason why he shouldn’t be saying any of what he was saying. “So, no, Arthur, I can’t make a speech saying how happy I am for you and Gwen because-”

Merlin stopped suddenly because nothing he’d said yet had been _those words_ and he couldn’t do it. Even though he was burning with anger and wretched feelings, he couldn’t admit he loved him. It was too hard. But he had nothing to finish the thought off with and Arthur was waiting and he would not throw himself over this precipice, he wouldn’t do say, he refused.

“Because if I was going to fall in love with a servant, it should have been you,” Arthur finished for him and this time it was Merlin who felt the truth strike him like a slap.

Merlin wanted to protest, to say that wasn’t what he was going to say because he never resented Arthur for loving Gwen, he never resented her for being the one he loved. He only resented himself for feeling this way. But Arthur wasn’t glaring at him, he wasn’t angry that Merlin was ruining his wedding day. He was just staring at him, watching carefully for a reaction and the realisation came to Merlin that _he knew_. There would be no denying it because it wasn’t a question. Arthur knew.

“No,” Merlin started, his voice shaking with the effort not to break. “Because I love you and it’s killing me.”

There. It was done. It had been said. It was easier than he thought it would be. Though he knew living with it as common knowledge would be infinitely harder than having it fester in the depths of his heart, eating away at him. At least the only person he’d been hurting that way was himself.

Arthur said nothing in return; Merlin had nothing more he could say and the silence was starting crush them both so Merlin took the easy way out. “Goodnight, Sire.”

Turning away for what he thought was the last time; he breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. Finally. But Arthur caught his arm again and it was as far from over as it could possibly get. He had enough time to look up, finding Arthur’s eyes to try and work out what he wanted now before that too because crystal clear. Every question, every hope he’d ever had was answered with one swift, forceful kiss, Arthur’s lips pressed determinedly to his, his hand still wrapped around Merlin’s wrist. And then it _was_ over and Arthur pulled back, still keeping him there with the grip on his arm, leaving him will twice as many questions and hopes as he’d had before.

“What did you do that for?” Merlin asked breathlessly because he couldn’t process it any more eloquently than that. But he needed to know.

“Because I had nothing I could say either... to that, what you said...” Arthur paused, stopping himself from babbling like Merlin did. “An apology didn’t seem good enough in the circumstances.”

“Why, are you really that incapable of admitting you’re wrong?” Merlin asked, his heart breaking because for a second, he’d _hoped_ , he’d thought _maybe_...

“No, it’s because I can’t admit you’re right.” Arthur squeezed his wrist almost painfully, like he would any second pull Merlin back towards him. “I can’t admit that I love _you_ and _her_ and it’s killing _me_. I have to pretend because it’s too late to do anything else now. I know how you must feel, Merlin, but please, don’t make this any harder because I don’t know what else I can do. There’s nothing I can say to make it better.”

Merlin felt his heart sink, leaving him feeling hollow because he understood. He wished he didn’t, he wished he could shout at Arthur or scream that it wasn’t fair. But he couldn’t, he could never get rid of the knowledge that life wasn’t fair and love was least fair of all.

He nodded, prying Arthur’s hand from his wrist and letting it drop. There was only one thing left to say, even though he’d said it already. “Goodnight, Sire.”

“Goodnight, Merlin.”

He knew Arthur stood and watched him walk away because he would have done the same. He had done the same, more times than he could. It seemed like one way or another; they were always walking away from each other, watching as the other left them.

He was in bed again, a vicious circle that would never end. Getting up tomorrow would be hard. But he’d learned his lesson; never assume the worst is over because it can _always_ get harder. He couldn’t help but fall back into the habit as he closed his eyes and finally declared this wicked day over with.

Knowing Arthur had loved him, or might still, but that they’d missed their chance... _that had to be the hardest thing._

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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